


What follows has led me to this place

by risinggreatness



Series: Circle 'round the sun [92]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Non-Graphic Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-18
Updated: 2015-02-18
Packaged: 2018-03-13 15:03:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3386162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risinggreatness/pseuds/risinggreatness
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ahsoka and Ventress have traveled similar paths, but arrived in vastly different places (not EU compliant)</p>
            </blockquote>





	What follows has led me to this place

His hand dwarfs hers. She clings to it like it’s her life line.

( _Where her playmates shrank away from the stranger, she looked at him with curiosity. Stepping forward, she looked behind the contraption on his face, and saw kindness around his eyes and the lines of a smile on his cheeks._

_“What do you wear that for?”_

_He chuckled through the grate, “This mask allows me to breathe, little one.”_

_“Oh… What’s that?” she asked, pointing to the metal object hanging from his belt._

_“This is a lightsaber, the weapon of a Jedi knight.”_

_“Can I try it?”_

_He laughed again, “You will, little Ahsoka. You will.”_ )

Master Plo squeezes Ahsoka’s hand comfortingly. They will be there soon.

He points out the porthole just as they pass by an enormous tower. Another building comes into view. It occupies the entire horizon, turrets reaching for the sky.

Her eyes go wide with awe.

“Welcome to your new home.”

Anyone else might have missed it, but to Ahsoka the gentleness in Master Plo’s voice is plain as day.

\----------

The Count’s silhouette blends with those of the towering trees; the sky, painted in orange sunset, only intensifies the harsh light.

Ventress keeps her knees and her neck bent; she quivers under the strain.

He speaks of her grief over Master Narec. ( _Is that what’s been driving her?_ ) She nearly died that day ( _to lay next to her Master in death would have been an honor_ ) but she’s still here.

He speaks of her grief sustaining her passion.

Of her passion fueling her strength.

Of her strength becoming her power.

“I sense the darkness in you. I can teach you the ways of the Dark Side, but you must prove yourself first.”

And she will – whatever it takes.

Ventress bows her head lower, “How can I serve you, Master?”

\----------

Green mist surrounds Ventress and soothes her body, but not her mind.

Her mind seethes.

Dooku cursed her and disavowed her. He tried to have her killed, but she’s still here. She will have her revenge.

The Nightsisters take their turns keeping vigil over her healing wounds.

Ventress strengthens. This time it is a thirst for revenge which sustains her passion and hate that becomes her power. She does not grieve betrayal.

Mother Talzin visits her once she is recovered.

“I shall help you take your revenge on Count Dooku.”

The echo of Mother Talzin’s voice would haunt anyone else’s dreams, but not Ventress. She is a Nightsister and they do not fear the witch or the dark.

\----------

She’s still here. She’s the only one left, and she’s responsible for it.

( _Why does she keep failing everyone?_ )

The Nightsisters gave her a home when she had nowhere left to go; they healed her and sheltered her. She repaid them by leading the droid army to their door.

The carnage ( _some of it already long dead and rotting_ ) starts to stink; Ventress cannot stay here.

“Mother! Mother!” her voice hoarsely calls out for her. “Where are you?”

“I am right here, child.” Mother Talzin hides behind her smoke tricks, keeping her distance from the disgraced Nightsister. “It is over, sister. This chapter is over. Your destiny will always be linked with ours, but you have your own path to follow now.”

“No! Don’t leave me!”

Ventress cannot trap the vapor between her fingers; Mother Talzin’s image billows and fades in dark plumes.

Betrayed and abandoned again, Ventress collapses.

\----------

The shackled bounty mutters some more obscenities as Ventress shoves him into the hold of the ship.

“Yeah, yeah. Save it for the Hutts.” ( _Gods know why they’ve offered such a hefty sum for this bastard. He wasn’t even all that hard to track and capture. Not that she’s complaining about easy money._ ) She gives him one last kick before latching the compartment shut and heading for the cockpit.

Once she is en route, Ventress removes her helmet to massage her temples.

For the better part of the week, her head has been on the verge of splitting apart. The larger the price on their head, the more a target is bound to talk ( _she should have brought this one back dead_ ), but this is no ordinary irritation.

The headache’s gotten progressively worse and for someone who apparently failed Dooku one too many times, the Force holds a strong influence over her mind.

He’s scared, her former master. Something dark is coming for him. He’s fleeing but he can’t escape it. None of them can.

Ventress pushes back.

Dooku betrayed her – tried to murder her, but she’s still here.

This is her life now and Ventress likes it, better than she ever liked being Dooku’s assassin and servant.

Whatever awaits him, it’s what he deserves.

\----------

His pursuit ends at Mustafar. The planet is a blood-red stain on the galaxy; it matches the blood already spilled by his hand.

His orders match the thirst for revenge already on his tongue ( _his throat has been parched for five years want of it_ ).

Dooku is incapable of running forever.

“I should have known my master would replace me when his task for me was through. Though I never expected his new apprentice would be you, Skywalker. Then again, he always did prefer brute strength over the elite mind,” Dooku’s voice rumbles from the deep. The gauntlet is thrown, “Shall we see if you are worthy of it?”

Vader’s grip tightens on the lightsaber, but does not ignite it. The gears of his mechanical hand grind together.

“There’s only one way this ends.”

“Hopefully you have improved since our first encounter. What I have seen of your skill does not augur in your favor.”

Dooku draws first.

Instead of flying forward he is smashed back into the wall.

Their master has chosen Vader. There will be no competition – no elegant footwork or wild blows. _His_ master’s will be done.

Dooku pushes back on the Force, constricting his windpipe, but Vader is stronger. The count’s breath grows short; he desperately claws and yanks at any little piece of the Force he can grasp. It is not enough to save himself.

Feeling malignant, Vader drops Dooku on all fours. Dooku retches.

Vader’s seen this before: the victim will reach for their neck, try to alleviate the pain. He will not allow it.

Dooku lifts his arm; Vader slices it off. Ugly, red blood springs forth, almost invisible against the fire of the landscape; Dooku’s eyes go wide. Vader remains unconcerned ( _he’s seen it before_ ).

With another stroke Vader takes the other arm too.

Unsupported Dooku falls flat on the ground, unable to breathe. “You _have_ improved, but you still lack civility,” he manages.

“It’s a pity then that I do not care.”

Dooku laughs darkly through rasping breaths.

“Go on. Finish it.”

It’s pathetic, no longer able to even face his demise with dignity, unable to even lift his head.

Vader stalks his downed prey. Standing over Dooku, Vader points the glowing blade at the man’s back and pushes through. The small, sharp intake of breath is unexpected as the air escapes Dooku’s lungs.

The face of the dead is frozen in shock. The body is limp in Vader’s arms as he delivers it to the edge of the chasm and drops it into the churning magma.

( _His master’s will be done._ )

A dull tug at his mind calls Vader back to Coruscant. He ignores his master’s summons.

There is another master he must answer to.

He does not how Kenobi escaped the purge thus far, but his presence draws near. Vader feels only contempt for the man who held back his true power all these years; whatever love he had for the brother who stood by his side turned to ash.

Vader will hold nothing back.

\----------

She’s still here.

Sometimes Ahsoka can’t believe it. The winds of time toppled the greatest eras of the Jedi, and Sith took the Order she knew. But even the erosion of the past leaves remnants.

She should have paid more attention to her history lessons.

Mission debriefings keep bringing them an interesting rumor: there is a lost Jedi temple in the Gradilis sector.

She’s still here. Why not an ancient sacred grove?

They are enticed by the prospect. This time, peace has afforded them the opportunity to start setting up outposts throughout the galaxy ( _ramshackle things, hardly worth the credits they’re doling out, but necessary to prove their commitment_ ). They all hope for the start of something grander in their future.

Aven is the first to uncover any evidence the temple actually existed.

“There was an ancient sect established on Nirauan, which is in the Gradilis sector, but they don’t have any more information about it.”

Mara huffs, disappointed, “Of course they don’t.”

Luke stands by, pouring over the sentence on the datapad. “We could go investigate it ourselves.”

His suggestion peaks Mara’s interest, “You’re not serious.”

They both have that gleam in their eye – the one that says they’re about to do something reckless and more than a little bit stupid.

“Go ahead,” Ahsoka tells them. “Leia and I can scope out outpost locations while she looks over a couple of candidate systems for New Alderaan.”

Luke and Mara jump at the chance to go on an adventure together.

Ahsoka meets Leia, Pres held on her hip, in the Falcon’s docking bay ( _the hunk of junk has its own now_ ).

“Where are –?”

“Gone rumor hunting.”

Leia nods knowingly and they pile into the cockpit, Han and Chewie already spinning up the engines.

Examining sites for outposts is tedious and Ahsoka almost immediately regrets letting Luke and Mara get away with their nerfbrained scheme ( _Leia has no time to spare_ ). Chewie accompanies her as she kicks the hard dirt and asks numerous questions about flight times to other systems.

He roars they should have saved their credits for moving the temple instead of spending it on individual sites.

“If we didn’t start increasing our foothold, it would have looked like we weren’t fulfilling our promise,” she shrugs.

His rely is a string of barks about how untrusting most species are and how no one would dare question the word of a wookiee.

“Not everyone can tear a person’s arms out.”

No, but you could take their arms with your Jedi-weapon, he suggests.

Ahsoka laughs.

There is no Shyriiwook word for lightsaber. The Jedi have been around for thousands of years; the age of the wookiee culture shows. Their history proud and strong like the wroshyr trees of Kashyyyk’s forests.

She wonders what will happen if Luke and Mara are successful and the remnants of the Jedi’s ancient history is laid before their feet. Should they move the Order without second thought? Ahsoka doesn’t like either answer. Yes, and cling to the past. No, and remain under the eye of the Republic.

She’s getting ahead of herself. Luke and Mara may not find anything.

The wind picks up and scatters dust across the dry plane.

They will need to keep expanding regardless; relocating to a new temple won’t change the need for outposts throughout the galaxy.

Ahsoka points to a plot of land which looks decent for building, “There. It’s a good base point for future missions in this sector.”

\----------

The Florrum settlers look up from the ground, eyes wide with fear. She lifts her chin higher to look down her nose at them.

“Goru, hurry up. We don’t have much time,” Ventress orders coolly.

“You really think the Jedi are going to show up, boss?”

She crooks her brow and hopes they do.

Doors are smashed. Houses plundered. Valuables looted. Crops razed. The pirates make quick work of the place.

“Please, _raquor’daan_ …” the leader begs at Ventress’s feet. She’d almost forgotten her weequay attire, the seclusion braids hanging from the back of her head ( _one small one for every year since she left Dathomir, tied into several larger ones signifying her years as captain_ ). “Please spare us.”

She has no intention of murdering them outright. They will rebuild and Ventress will bring her crew back again.

She ignores the plea.

High-speed winds kick up the dirt, whipping the braids against her bare head. Landing on the borders of the settlement, a single Jedi emerges from the fighter.

_One man? The_ New _Order is more arrogant than the Old._

This one doesn’t even look like he’s prepared to fight.

“Should we take off?”

“No,” Ventress says slowly, cautiously trusting the pull at her gut. “I’ll deal with this one.”

They meet halfway, it is too civil. Ventress lifts her head high, the Jedi should not mistake who’s in control of this situation. She can’t believe the brazenness of his actions. She can’t believe he thinks he’ll chase them off this planet alone. It reminds her of an old opponent…

“Master Skywalker,” the Jedi offers his hand. “I’m here to negotiate on the settlement’s behalf.”

Ventress can’t stop herself from laughing, a mixture of Skywalker’s naivety and the shock of meeting the son of an old enemy on this meaningless rock.

She ignores the outreached arm.

Old instincts kick in, a hint of seduction sneaking into her tone, “We’re taking it all.”

He stands nearly as rigid as his father. Anakin Skywalker flirted with danger regularly, but never her ( _not the way Kenobi would, making their duels all the more entertaining_ ).

She sends a signal to her first mate to wrap up it and join her.

“You’re making a mistake.”

“And you’re going to stop us?” Her crew closes in around them; though intimidating and heavily armed the young Skywalker doesn’t flinch. Ventress slides her gun from its holster, matching the bloodlust of the weequay. She’d like to be the one to take the first shot. “You’re out of your depth, Jedi,” she taunts.

Finally, he seems to take notice of the odds and takes a half-step back.

One of the crew loses their patience, “I’ve had enough of this! Let’s just do away with him!”

Someone opens fires.

She’s furious, but she’ll save punishment for later. For now, Ventress takes aim.

**Author's Note:**

> See author bio for discussion on this 'verse.


End file.
